Song of Circe
by roisaber
Summary: An unwitting vampire-to-be discovers that one missed train in Hollywood can change her entire life. There's a beautiful song being sung at the center of all things, and if she is very, very lucky, that song will reach out and create a Chanteuse in the place where a mortal once stood


If you met me at a party, I suppose the first thing you'd do is ask me my name. I'm Anandra Foxwood. Next, you might be curious about my profession. I might hem and haw for a bit and try to change the subject. Or maybe I'll just blurt it out – I guess it just depends on the type of party. I'm an eroge voice actress. By now, you may well have recognized my voice, if not the face that goes along with it. I guess it all depends on your opinion of localized Japanese fap material.

One thing that I wouldn't tell you is that I'm Kindred. A Chanteuse, to be more specific. But since we've become on such intimate terms, just you and me, I'll tell you the story of my embrace. Oh, and also about how I at least arrived within spitting distance of a job in the Industry, since both those stories are kinda intertwined.

Let's roll it back to a warm summer evening in Hollywood not too many years ago. The sky was orange and streaked with pink, and the air was fragrant with the scent of blossoming jacarandas. It was just after sunset, and I was just after Sunset, sprinting up Vine Street in hopes of catching the Red Line before it pulled out of the station. I worked two jobs to try to keep my bills paid in LA while I shopped my screenplay, and my boss at a small Koreatown restaurant, Mr. Seung, already treated me as if I was treading on thin ice simply for being a white girl. If I was late again he was certainly going to fire me. Naturally, the metro clattered out of the pristine Hollywood station just as I made my gasping way down to the platform. I stared forlornly at the rear end of the retreating train. Then I noticed a middle aged guy on the platform looking at me.

I'm not unfamiliar with the male gaze, though I was feeling a little less than flattered thanks to missing my train. My hair must have been a matted, sweaty, auburn mess, and I was wearing a non-descript black dress that complimented my thin silhouette without being ostentatiously sexualizing. I was still panting while trying to recover my breath. Still, the best way to get noticed in the Industry is to Get Noticed, so I tried on a flirtatious smile and hoped it didn't look ridiculous on a totally winded young woman who just missed her train.

To my surprise, he actually glided over to me, as gracefully as an ice skater. My heart thundered in my chest while I tried to talk myself down. Of course this wouldn't be my Big Break. He was just a European tourist about to ask for directions. No, he was a run-of-the-mill middle-aged nice guy, who just separated from his second wife, thought I was cute, and was interested in knowing if I'd ever be interested in getting coffee with him. Ugh. My morning job as a barista made me loathe coffee with a fiery passion. I mean, I still drank the stuff like it was water and I was a thirsty man in the desert. But that didn't mean I hated it any less; it just meant that I got it for free. Am I talking nonsense to myself? I am _definitely_ talking nonsense to myself. I'd better stop before I say something terribly stupid.

"Do you want to see my screenplay?" I immediately blurted the moment he came within my social space.

Inwardly, I seethed. You _idiot_ , I admonished myself. Talk about reeking of desperation. Play it cool, stupid.

He laughed, but not unkindly. "Hey, maybe, but that's not what I had in mind. My name is Harry Knott – no relation, my parents just had a terrible sense of humor – and I was wondering if you'd ever considered acting."

Well duh, of course I have! I grew up in Tarzana, and it's every little Valley girl's dream to see her own face gazing back at her out of a movie poster some day. I tried to say something non-committal, but I think the only thing that came out of my larynx was a squeak.

"Here, take my card." Mr. Knott pulled out some kind of incredible contraption for releasing business cards, and one practically jumped into my hand. "It might not be exactly what you think, though – you should probably check out our website before you decide whether to audition. Who should I expect to get in touch?"

I didn't have a business card, but I did have a small envelope that all aspiring Industry types carry around at absolutely all times without exception, containing a headshot, a short biography, and a synopsis of everything they've ever written in hopes of getting a TV show out of the deal. Too excited for words, I reached into my purse and gave him one of the packets. I always carry three, just in case one gets eaten by bears and another one falls into the LA "River." He took it with an air of easygoing bemusement.

"Oh!" I said, surprised at my own discourtesy. "My name is Anandra. Anandra Foxwood. But not like Bond, James Bond."

I winced. Could I possibly sound any stupider?

"Well, I hope to be working with you soon, Miss Foxwood. Or was it Bond?" he asked grinning.

"It's Foxwood!"

And just like that, he turned around and made his way back up the stairs that would disgorge him out onto Hollywood and Vine. I stared at his retreating back. I couldn't believe it. I mean, things like that only happen in the movies, right? But this _is_ where movies come from – write what you know and all. Such a strange Industry. But maybe, just maybe, this would be my lucky break. I peered down at Harry's business card, which was decked out in red and gold and bore the name Sun Dog Productions. It had all of the studio's contact information, and a website URL. I vowed to find out everything I could just as soon as I got home.

It took thirteen minutes for the next Red Line train to pull into the station. Typical. The later you were running, the later the trains would come. I pushed my way aboard along with a couple dozen other people. In LA, a car was not a status symbol but a basic way of life, and no matter how many people this city accumulates, the metro still remains comfortably uncrowded. I'm not ashamed to admit that for me the choice came down to either paying rent or keeping my car – so public transportation it is. There were still a few seats open as we pulled out of the metro station, and I smoothed my dress beneath me and sat down and played with my phone.

I guess I could have looked up Sun Dog's website immediately, but I wanted to indulge in the magic of possibilities for awhile before I found out what his production company was actually working on. The train rattled down the tracks. The air inside the car was a little stuffy, not helped by the pungent smell of a dozen varieties of ethnic foods all contesting for dominance. It took the normal amount of time for the metro to get to Wilshire and Vermont – that is, too long. By the time I finally hoofed it into Mr. Seung's, he gave me a disapproving look and called me into the back room. I knew what that meant. I stood dejectedly while he printed out my last paycheck and fired me on the spot.

With a heavy heart, I made my way right back to the Red Line station. Without my second job, there's no way I could afford to keep up with the rent on my cramped studio apartment in Fillmore. My stomach churned in my belly as I waited for the next train. The lofty high of getting Noticed had immediately been turned into an abyssal low, and anxiety preyed on me mercilessly. After all, it's not like I'd been offered a job – I'd only been offered an _audition_. I'll bet ten thousand people audition in this city every single day, and of them, only a tiny fraction even get a bit part out of the deal. Was Sun Dog even a part of the Screen Actors Guild? I'd never heard of them. Maybe they did snuff films. They made snuff films and I was going to _die_ and then a bunch of guys would jack off while watching my twitching corpse!

Red Line to Union Station, Gold Line to Fillmore. Eventually, I arrived at my stop, and made my way to my small studio apartment on Magnolia Avenue. The first thing I did was throw myself into bed and have myself a good cry. My apartment had no a/c, and even with all the windows open and both fans running full blast I was still sweating mercilessly. After I finally cried myself out, I poured myself a tall glass of Two Buck Chuck and clambered into the shower to wash off the day's physical and emotional ick. It took a little while. At least when I finally got out, the air was a little cooler, and I was able to slip into a t-shirt without immediately pasting it to my body with sweat.

It was finally time to see what Sun Dog Productions was all about. I poured another glass of wine and let the microwave cook me some bachelorette chow. I went the URL specified on Harry's business card, and was immediately greeted by a large number of anime girls in varying stages of undress. I gawked and explored the website further.

It was obviously – well, it was obviously a localization company and storefront for an erotic anime company. There was no doubt about _that_ as I scanned the list of titles available on DVD or web streaming. Tentacle Mons Mons 3. My Classmate's Weiner. Doki Doki Sex Patrol. I couldn't help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the titles. I was a little surprised that there could be so _much_ of the stuff. I mean, I liked anime well enough; one of my ex-boyfriends was really into it, so I've seen more than what probably constitutes my fair share. But here were pages and pages of titles, each with more absurd names than the last. Seriously? Heterosexual Punt Machine? What the _Hell_? I idly scrolled to the Now Hiring page, wondering just what Mr. Knott had in mind.

Apparently, Sun Dog was looking for **translators** , **localizers** , and **voice actors and actresses** , or at least, that's what it claimed in bold pink font. What could they need me for? Well, Harry did say he wanted me in for an audition, and there was no way of telling whether I was conversant in Japanese just by seeing me on a metro platform. So he must want me to audition for a part as a voice actress. I blinked in surprise. I'd never really thought about anything like that much. When I thought of the Industry, I thought of agents and actresses and grips and technicians, not VA. I wondered how I got his attention. Sure, people said I had a nice voice, and I was occasionally cast as lead singer in school plays. But I never thought I could make a career out of something like that.

I resolved to call Sun Dog as soon as I got off work the next day. It's not like I had much of a choice – without more income, I was just going to end up back in my parent's house in Tarzana, just another hapless victim of the Boomerang Generation. I liked my parents fine, it wasn't that. But I'd been living on my own for eight months, and the thought of going crawling back to my childhood home made me cringe. So, Sun Dog or bust.

I really couldn't afford to buy any of the offerings in their store, but there were a few free samples that I queued up with interest. May as well see what I'm getting into. First, I downloaded a short excerpt from an erotic visual novel. It started out innocently enough – a high school girl choosing between after-school clubs – but after going through a couple different paths, it became obvious to me that which boy she ended up hooking up with depended on which club she joined. If she joined the Literature Club, she flirted with a boy who was saturnine and soulful. If she joined the softball team, she ended up with an energetic jock. I listened carefully to the protagonist's voice acting and tried to imagine myself doing that. She was breathy and forceful in turns. During the romantic scenes, she issued soft little groans and grunts to accompany the scrolling text. To my surprise, the net effect was rather sexy. It'd been awhile since I'd met a boy suitable to bring to bed, so I reached downwards and allowed myself to get lost in the moment.

While I shlicked, I felt myself feeling self-conscious. Was I making the right noises? Would they really think I sounded sexy enough? Would I be able to make them on command in a sound booth? I drilled deeper, trying to dispel my anxieties with raw sensation. It worked. Or at least, it worked well enough that I finally came, the visual novel long forgotten in a haze of long-accumulated tension. I sat in my desk chair for a few minutes afterwards, luxuriating in the sensation and feeling thoughtful. I hoped I could do everything right.

Gold Line, Red Line, Hollywood. I could do the route to the indie coffee shop where I worked in my sleep. My shift was busy enough to keep me from falling back into my head, and I bounced on my feet as I rapidly took and filled customer orders. I acted extra exuberant because that day was the day we'd dole out the week's tips, and a little extra effort might give me a small cushion if I couldn't get the job at Sun Dog. Finally, I was free. I made the call to the office before even taking off my barista apron.

To my surprise, Harry answered personally. Couldn't they even afford a secretary?

"Sun Dog Productions, this is CEO Harry. How can I assist you?" he asked in a sing-song voice.

"Uh… hi… this is Anandra. We met at the metro yesterday?"

"Oh, of course! I hoped you'd call! How are you doing today, Anandra?"

"Pretty good. I just wanted to say that I'm interested in the part – when can I come in for an audition?"

I could hear him verbally shrug. "We're a small company and I don't have any investor meetings today. Drop in any time before five."

"Okay! I'll be there soon!" I gushed.

Red Line, Purple Line. Sun Dog occupied part of a floor in a non-descript office building in Wilshire. A woman answered me over the intercom and buzzed me in immediately. I waited impatiently for the elevator, heedless of the occasional curious glance of suited businessmen or techies in Hawaiian shirts. I realized with chagrin that I'd forgotten to take off my apron in my excitement. I hastily took it off and stuffed it into my messenger bag.

Harry greeted me as soon as I knocked on their door. "Come in, come in… why don't you meet the staff?"

He motioned to a middle aged woman who was more than a little chubby. "Sara, one of the VAs."

"Hi. I'm Anandra."

"Sure thing, dear." I was started to recognize the breathy voice of the high school girl from last night. Somehow it just didn't seem right coming out of her vocal cords, but the reality of it couldn't be denied.

"Taylor and Dylan. They're brothers, but they sound completely different."

Taylor was a rotund twentysomething with dark hair and olive eyes. Dylan was blond, a little younger, tall, and thin as a beanstalk. I couldn't help but wonder if they were just step-siblings or something, they were so different. But something about the face shape suggested to me that they were full brothers who each got the opposite collection of recessive genes.

"Hi, Anandra," Taylor greeted me in a deep, masculine voice.

Dylan had a high-pitched alto. "Hey there."

"José, our techie. He'll insist you call him Zorro – it's better just to humor him," Harry added conspiratorially.

"Uh, hi, Zorro," I answered with a nervous wave.

Zorro was a short, dark Latino with eyes that glittered like onyx. He grinned predatorily and blew me a kiss.

"You'll do fine, Shorty," he declared in a voice that betrayed more Valley than Hispaniola.

Harry went on, "And that's everyone. We're a small company, but our sales last quarter were great and we just landed a new contract with a big publisher in Japan. We're trying to expand our online streaming subscription services – to become the Netflix of erotic anime, if you will."

I nodded. Everybody was trying to become either the Netflix or Uber of _something_ , these days.

"Sara has been doing all of the female voices so far, but in spite of her impressive range, there's only so many characters a VA can play before it all starts to sound the same. So running into you on the train platform was quite the serendipity."

"I meant to ask you about that… why did you approach me, personally?" I asked.

"Well, if you forgive me for being blunt… you just sounded so sexy when you tried to catch your breath after missing your train. You had perfect pitch even while panting."

I blinked. "Oh."

"Well, why don't you give it a try?" Harry shoved a script into my hands and led me into the sound booth. "Put on your headphones and start whenever you're ready. Read the highlighted sections and we'll see how you do."

I settled into the plush chair in the booth, and the other employees of Sun Dog crowded around Zorro at the sound board. I quickly paged through the script until I found the highlighted sections. I blushed furiously as I read the lines I was expected to repeat back, and in front of so many prying eyes. Harry watched me intently.

"Uh…" I took a deep breath and started choking. Fortunately, there were a bunch of water bottles in the booth, and I chugged half of one without stopping. "I… sorry, this is a bit embarrassing."

I could hear everything from the outside of the booth through my headphones.

"Just take your time," Harry replied patiently.

"Okay." I took another deep breath. "I can do this. Okay."

"Hey, you're wasting tape, Shorty," Zorro announced.

Harry mildly chided, "Let her get her bearings, Zorro."

There was nothing else for it – I'd have to just blunder through.

"Oh, senpai," I murmured through my half-strangled throat. "Your touch feels so good. Please don't stop. I've been waiting for you to notice me for so long, it's like a dream come true!"

"Again," Harry said.

I repeated the lines, and they came out a little easier this time.

"Okay, now try the section marked 2."

I swallowed nervously.

"Oh, my … my pussy feels like it's on fire. So good. So good," I read, squirming nervously in my chair.

Well, what did I think it was going to be like?

"You can do better than this, Anandra. Try to get more of that breathy tone you had at the metro station. Read 1 again."

"Oh, senpai," I crooned. "Your touch feels _so_ good. Please don't stop! I've been waiting for you to notice me for so long – it feels like a dream come true!"

This time, Harry broke into a broad grin, and Zorro gave me a thumbs up.

"Okay, now run 2 again."

I shifted uneasily before finally blurting, "Oh, my pussy feels like it's on fire!" Beat. "So good~~~." Beat "So good!"

"Okay, that was a little better this time. Now read 3."

The third outlined section was just two simple sentences. But that wouldn't make it any easier to say, not while being watched by a bunch of virtual strangers sitting outside the sound booth.

"Go ahead, Shorty," Zorro announced.

"I- I'm coming! I'm coming!" I finally blurted.

"Okay. That's enough for right now," Harry said. "You can come out, Anandra."

Gratefully, I stepped out of the sound booth on gelid legs. I couldn't believe I just did that.

"Not bad. I think that you'll be great after a little practice," Harry said. "I want you to take that script home and practice tonight. You definitely have a voice for it – but you need to get over your self-consciousness and really _feel_ yourself as this character."

I nodded. It was no secret to me that my anxiety did me few favors, and I'd have to really overcome it to be able to say… these things… as shamelessly as Sara had been able to.

"Am I hired?" I asked in a small voice.

"Probationally. Pay starts at two thousand a month. I know it's not much for LA, but we're still a small company, and we have a long way to go before we can start making serious bank."

Two thousand would be _just_ enough to live on, given that rent on my shitty studio was eleven hundred a month in and of itself. If I could just overcome my self-consciousness, I could even quit my job at the coffee shop and focus on acting full time. It might not be a major Hollywood production, but it was still something sort of like a foot in the door. Some door, anyway.

"When can you be in tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Does one pm work? I'll have to take off early from my other job…"

"That's fine for now. See you tomorrow, Anandra."

"Bye, Shorty," Zorro added.

After trading valedictions with the rest of the Sun Dog staff, I made my way back home. Purple Line, Red Line, Gold Line. I spent the entire time on the metro reading the script, blushing furiously at each new paragraph. As masturbatory material, the text didn't leave anything to the imagination. I would have to describe sensations like having my asshole widened, pussy stretched, and nipples tweaked mercilessly. I've been with a few boys in my life, so I wasn't wholly without a reference point – but having to describe those sensations in such thorough detail made me squirm with nervous tension.

To think that one visual novel would have almost three hundred pages of this stuff!

When I got home, I decided there was only one way to really face this stuff. I pulled my magic toolbox from underneath my bed, and took a blue pill out of my stash. I didn't do Molly very often – honestly, I can't afford to – but a little bit of chemical adulation might be enough to get me out of my negative headspace. I thumbed through the script while waiting for the pill to take effect, highlighting the regions that I thought would give me the most trouble back at Sun Dog. When I felt the characteristic lightheadness and energy of an ecstasy come-up, I chose a section at random and started reading in my sultriest voice.

"Senpai, how did you know I love chocolates?" What cheesy dialog. "Thank you so much! Why don't you accompany me to the band room? I'm sure I could think of a way to pay you back for your generosity.

"Oh, look at all that swelling! Do you have a bruise? No, it's just your way of saying you like me? But doesn't that hurt? Oh, if it hurts a little, let me take a look at it. Oh wow, so big! What, senpai? You want me to take that into my mouth? Well, if it would make you feel better, I'd be happy to do anything you want!

"Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmph, mmm, mmph, mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-slurp-mm-slurp-slurp mmm! Oh, something came out! How tasty!"

I decided I prided myself on the blowjob noises. Or maybe that was the MDMA talking, but either way, it suddenly became a lot easier to practice the script. If only I could hold onto this feeling tomorrow, at the office, I'd be sure to become an actress – or a voice actress, anyway. I paged over to another section.

"Keep going! Oh, so good! Your dick is so good senpai! This is the happiest feeling of my life! Don't stop!" I involuntarily reached downwards. I was really getting into it now. "Yes – go ahead and cum in me! I'm coming! I'm _coming~~~!_ "

Spurred by the erotic text, I came at the same time my character did. Suddenly, my next door neighbor started pounding on my wall, and I yelped with embarrassment. I guess I got a little too into it? Harry had also given me log-in information to all of Sun Dog's content, so I spent the rest of my evening in a pleasant daze of Molly, porno, and masturbation.

Gold Line, Red Line, Hollywood. A lot of people complain of brutal MDMA crashes the next day, but as long as I pop a 5-HTP supplement, I feel fine the next day. Better than fine, even - great. I glided through my day at the coffee shop, and I was downright eager to get to Sun Dog after my shift.

Sara was in the recording booth, doing lines from the same script I had, though she was playing a different character. I sat beside Zorro and listened in. Sara was playing the protagonist's homeroom teacher, so I guess my character, Mayuri, was just one of many options available to the player.

"Did you go to the arcade again instead of studying, Hiroki-kun? I want you to stay after class and see if we can think of any way to get your grades up," Sara said.

A little exploitive, I guess, but fantasies are harmless right? I mean, I'd be lying if I said I'd never had a crush on a particular 11th grade science teacher…

"Good, Sara," Harry said, glancing at me with a quick nod.

"Hey, sorry, boss," Zorro interjected. "I had the balance off for that last line. Sara, could you please run it again?"

"Did you go to the arcade again instead of studying Hiroki-kun? I want you to stay after class and see if we can think of any way to get your grades up."

This time Harry disapproved. "One more time, a little slower."

"Did you go to the arcade again instead of studying, Hiroki-kun? I want you to stay after class and see if we can think of some way to get your grades up."

"Great, perfect. You said 'some' instead of 'any,' but I think it sounded better that way. I'll have Dylan adjust the text translation in post to match what you said." Harry nodded decisively. "Sara, could you come out, please? I want to give Anandra a chance to show off what she's practiced."

So, there I was again, in the sound booth and shifting a little nervously. It'd been easy to do under the influence of Molly… but it was still easier for me than it had been the day before.

I affected the breathy tone that I thought Harry was looking for.

"Senpai, how did you know I love chocolates? Thank you so much! Why don't you accompany me to the band room? I'm sure I could think of a way to pay you back for your generosity."

I couldn't read Harry's expression exactly, but I felt like I was doing well, so I continued to blunder through. I'd have to change my cadence from last night, however – to leave room for the VA from whichever brother was playing Hiroki.

"Oh, look at all that swelling! Do you have a bruise?

"No, it's just your way of saying you like me? But doesn't that hurt?

"Oh, if it hurts a little, let me take a look at it. Oh wow, so big!

"What, senpai? You want me to take that into my mouth? Well, if it would make you feel better, I'd be happy to do anything you want!"

The room erupted into applause, and I grinned in spite of my nervousness.

"You did great, Anandra!" Harry enthused. "I think you'll work out just fine, here."

Well, that's basically the story of how I became an eroge VA. But that's not all you wanted to hear, right? You wanted to know about how I got embraced. Well, okay, since you asked and all…

One day, after work, we all went out for karaoke. I'd been there for about six months, and by then I'd played dozens of different roles in scores of anime and visual novels. I was really comfortable with my work, and while it didn't exactly make me rich, at least it paid the bills. Plus, I got to quit my job at the coffee shop. My blood pressure dropped precipitously after losing access to as much free coffee as I could drink. Egged on by my coworkers and fueled with liquid courage, I got onto stage at a small bar in Santa Monica and queued up Kylie Minogue's Love at First Sight, a guilty pleasure of mine.

"…and everything went wrong to right

"and stars came out and filled up the sky

"the music you were playing really blue my mind

"it was love~ at first sight!"

Everybody in the bar started cheering, and I was gratified to see that it wasn't just my co-workers who were impressed by crooning. In one darkened corner, a tall, elegant blonde stood, applauding languidly. I clambered down and back to our table, and Sara slapped me on the back.

"Anandra! That was amazing!" she said. "Being able to sing like that is a totally different skill from being a voice actress."

Zorro added, "Damn, Shorty! You should try out for American Idol."

"Nah," I answered shyly. "I think I'd wilt under all those studio lights."

We got more drinks and did a few more songs. Even Zorro sang a Weird Al polka, despite the fact that his singing went down like a fart at a funeral. I sang Don't Stop Believing by Journey, as is legally required by all karaoke establishments under force of law. The entire time, the woman in the back kept her eyes on me, and I started to feel a little self-conscious. She was wearing a shapely black dress. Her features were Scandinavian, soft and cool like an early spring breeze. We finally dissipated from the bar just before last call, and though I knew I'd have a pounding hangover the next morning, I had so much fun that I wasn't even mad.

Suddenly, I heard a woman singing, further down the road and down towards the beach. It was so haunting that I stopped in my tracks. It seemed like a medieval chant, but it was multilayered, and I could hardly believe that a person could do that with just their voice. I wanted to see who was responsible for the lovely song, though somehow I already knew the answer to my question. It was the blonde woman from the bar. As if in a trance, I followed the mellifluous sound down Montana Avenue, towards the beach.

It didn't take me long to confirm my assumption about the source of the beautiful song. A bright moon hung in the sky and illuminated a lovely scene. The blonde woman was facing the ocean, singing in a light and airy aria. It was ancient like Phoenician ruins; sparkling like a spring-fed stream; soft like a peacock's feather. She sang like an angel. She noticed me arrive, and she turned to face me with a welcoming smile on her face.

"Oh, you came! I'm so glad, Anandra."

I was a little taken aback. "Yes, I heard your voice and… it was so lovely that I just had to see who was singing. How do you know my name?"

"I've been a fan of your work for some time. But I had to see you in person to make sure." She moved like a panther, elegant and lethal. She got so close that I could feel the warmth of her breath over the cold Pacific breeze when she said, "My name is Rúna."

I wasn't sure what to make of this person, with the beautiful voice and the strange disposition. "Are you German?"

Rúna laughed. "Íslendingur. But I've lived in Los Angeles for eighty years."

I smirked. She was obviously putting me on. "Certainly not as long as all that?"

"I'm so glad to finally meet you. I'm a big fan of anime – it gives me something to do during the long days spent inside, unable to sleep. When I first heard your voice in Demonymic Sex Dominion it was like a revelation. I knew immediately that I wanted to make you mine."

I was a little uncertain of how to comport myself. I'd never actually met a fan before – we voice actresses tend to be relegated to the background, just a few credits at the end long after most of the guys have probably blown their loads anyway. Rúna was beautiful, but she scared me a little, too.

"May I invite you back to my house for a drink?" Rúna asked hopefully.

"Well," I stammered. "It's very late, and I have a new script coming in tomorrow that we're supposed to have finished by the end of next week…"

Rúna started signing again, and all my objections melted away like frost on a warm day. She was _beautiful_ , and I wanted to be just like her. What's the worst thing she could do to me, anyway? Fuck me? I wasn't so sure that I was entirely opposed to the idea. I'd never done gone farther than making out with another girl before, but if there was anyone I would want to introduce me to the Sapphic idiosyncrasy, it would be someone like Rúna. Besides, women aren't usually murderers, at least, not the kind of calculating kidnap rape and murder that so many crazy men commit. I realized as she sang that it had been weeks since I'd gotten any action. I'm picky with men and most of my relationships fall apart the moment the opening intoxication wears off.

"You're right," I said, my head swimming. "Let's get a drink at your place. I think I'd like that a lot."

"You've made me come so many times, Anandra. I want you. I love every contour of your voice; I love your every breathy exhalation."

And then we were kissing. I didn't know what was happening to me, but I loved it.

She led me to her car, a black Maserati GranTurismo MC. I couldn't help but gawk at the vehicle. It would have gone for well over a hundred thousand new, and the insurance on it alone was probably half my monthly rent – at least! I was dizzy. Rúna smiled at me and opened my door, an unexpected chivalry that overcame the last of my defenses. She got in the driver's seat and kissed me again, more deeply this time. I reached up to touch her breast, but she just smiled and broke off the kiss.

"Wait until we get home," Rúna said seductively.

The Maserati flew down Santa Monica Boulevard. Every time we came up on a red light, Rúna sang a strange, short little verse, and the light would magically melt to green in front of us. I watched in awe as she blew through one intersection after the next without even having to slow down. And then we were on Mulholland, threading our way up into the Santa Monica mountains, the city of Los Angeles splayed out beneath us like some kind of deep sea colony of bioluminescent coral. She took some of the turns so sharply that I'd squeak and almost pee my pants, but Rúna just laughed, and gunned the Maserati out of the other side without so much as squealing the tires. After twenty minutes of this, she took a turn and led us down a steep driveway, into a glittering house implanted in the side of a hill like prosthesis.

I was still feeling a little drunk, but Rúna wouldn't take no for an answer when she poured each of us a snifter of heady cognac. I took a sip of the rich, earthy liquor and stared into the other woman's eyes. I couldn't believe that someone as rich and sophisticated as Rúna would want anything to do with me. I was in love.

All at once, we started kissing again, and this time Rúna let me free her breasts from her dress without any protestations. Soon we were both naked on her leather couch overlooking the city of Santa Monica and the Pacific Ocean beyond. She teased me mercilessly, as though trying to make me reproduce every moan, squeal, and pant that I'd ever committed to digital reproduction. Occasionally, she'd stop tasting me for long enough to sing a little, and those moments would make my head swim with an intoxication that far surpassed that of any drug I'd ever experienced. I sang too, the songs of hot animal passion complimenting and contrasting her lullaby.

As I was coming she suddenly bit into my thigh, and a hot fire – in a good way – joined the shaking orgasm rattling its way up my body. The fire of her kiss spread from the wound all over my body, to the crown of my head and even into my fingertips. I didn't know what she was doing but I knew I never wanted her to stop. Somehow, her song blended with mine, and I could feel the pitch of her voice change to accommodate me. Or maybe it was me who was changing to accommodate it? Whatever the reality, it didn't matter. I became one with the Song and the Song became one with me. Something warm and hot spilled into my mouth and I drank it greedily. There was a brief, sharp pain in my chest as my heart suddenly stopped beating, but it was no worse than the pain of a long-awaited orgasm. Now I had the Song, and my sire and I sang it together.

So, that's the story of how I became a Chanteuse, called by the disrespectful a Daughter of Cacophony. Now I live in a big house in the Santa Monica mountains and never have to worry about bills. Of course, dear Rúna still makes me go to work – I do night sessions at Sun Dog Productions, and she still hangs on my every moan and grunt, both in my acting and at home. We sing duets to cute men – and women – and lead them back to our place for nights that will ultimately leave them a little drained but none the worse for wear when we kick them out before the morning sunrise. I sometimes miss watching the sun set over Sunset, but every single evening, I wake up grateful for having made the exchange.

[AUTHOR:] I really like doing these embrace stories. They're so self-contained that I never feel like I'm writing too much or too little. It's too bad that all the vampire fans have moved onto things like – bleh – Twilight and Vampire Diaries. It'd be nice if these got a little more readers. Still, I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it too.


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